


Great Expectations

by eerian_sadow



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: AU, Character Study, F/M, M/M, Meta, Multi, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-04
Updated: 2012-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-09 04:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/451445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eerian_sadow/pseuds/eerian_sadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a long, long time but the mechs finally get to see the femmes from Cybertron again when they transfer to the base on Earth.  Inferno's reunion with Firestar doesn't quite go the way the other Autobots expected...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Great Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> Fic inspired by the bunny found here at the tf_bunny_farm on livejournal.

Everyone on the ship had been delighted when they finally caught Red Alert and Inferno being more than platonic in the Rec Room. Inferno, it seemed, was finally getting over the lover he had lost on Cybertron and Red was finally getting over his paranoia enough to trust someone with his spark. Currency had changed hands as the victors claimed their winnings from the betting pool and Blaster had decided to throw a party in their honor--though everyone knew that was just an excuse. The mechs of the _Ark_ were genuinely happy for the pair.

Until word came back from Cybertron that the femmes were not as offline as everyone thought and that Inferno’s old lover was still online. And on her way to Cybertron with the rest of Elita-1’s unit.

The rumor mill was suddenly rife with ideas of what would happen--most of which boded ill for Inferno, Red Alert or both. The betting pool started back up--Smokescreen was offering good odds on Red Alert surviving the experience based on his position as Head of Security--and some mechs started making plans to be on duty in other locations when the femmes arrived.

Out of everyone in the crew, only Red Alert and Inferno seemed unconcerned--a fact which most mechs wouldn’t remember until later.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

“Aw, come on, Red.” Inferno tugged gently at his smaller lover’s arm. “If we stop by Prowl’s office to drop those off, we might miss them. Prime’s comm said they were almost here.”

“And if I don’t drop them off now, then I will have to do it when we come back through-- _after_ the femmes are here--and that will take even longer, because Prowl will be back, too.” Red Alert sighed. “Honestly, Inferno. You can be such a sparkling about my duties sometimes.”

“I’m not a sparkling,” the larger mech protested. “I’m just excited to see the girls again.”

The security director favored his lover with a smile as he opened the door to Prowl’s office. “You mean our girl. You’re excited to see Firestar again. The others are just incidental.”

“Can you blame me?” Inferno asked as he watched Red set several datapads on Prowl’s desk. “How long has it been since we’ve seen her?”

Red Alert sighed softly as he crossed the room again. “Forty nine thousand vorns.”

“At least we got to talk to her before we were put in travel stasis.” The search and rescue mech held out an arm to the security director as he came back toward him. 

Red nodded as he curled into Inferno’s embrace for a moment. “We got to say goodbye before we left.”

“And now we get to say hello again.” Inferno steered the smaller mech back into the hallway, letting the office door close behind them. “No sense in getting all depressed about it now.”

The smaller mech sighed again. “You’re right. The length of time just seemed so much more real when you brought it up. What if she’s moved on and doesn’t care about us anymore?”

Now it was the larger mech’s turn to sigh. “I don’t have a good answer for that, Red. We’ll deal with it if we have to.”

“If we have to,” Red Alert repeated. He didn’t sound convinced.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

There was a crowd gathered at the front entrance to the _Ark_ when they arrived, as they had known there would be. Everyone who hadn‘t gone out with the escort crew had turned out to greet the femmes when they arrived, except for Jazz who was covering the security monitors. All the Earth-based Autobots were eager to see their old friends and lovers.

Red Alert and Inferno pushed their way to the front of the crowd, just in time to see Optimus Prime and Elita-1 cresting the final hill before the base. They were driving so closely together that their sides were almost touching. 

Red Alert might have thought it was sweet and romantic, if he hadn’t been so busy worrying about their relationship with Firestar.

Inferno’s arm tightened around his shoulder, almost as if the larger mech was sensing his renewed tension. “I can just barely see her around Prime. She doesn’t look damaged at all. And Prowl’s escorting her like a true gentlemech.”

The other mech’s words, most certainly intended to be comforting, only served to ratchet his tension up that much higher. Any reply that he would have made, though, was pre-empted by a squeal of Optimus’ air brakes and their leader’s transformation back to root mode. The rest of the convoy followed his example a moment later.

“Autobots,” Optimus gave them all a huge smile, then turned to indicate the femmes gathered behind Elita. “Welcome our friends home.”

Cheers went up from the gathered mechs. The femmes looked delightedly embarrassed at the sound. 

Red Alert fixed his gaze on Firestar after looking over the other femmes. If it _was_ some sort of Decepticon trap, the impromptu welcoming celebration would have been the moment to spring it. But nothing happened, and he was free to fret over his relationship worries.

Firestar spotted them a moment later. The smile that broke out on her faceplates was radiant, and Red felt something inside him lose a tiny bit of tension. There was still a chance that she had decided to move on, but she looked so incredibly happy to see them.

Inferno lifted his arm from Red’s shoulder and waved. “Firestar!”

As if that was the signal the femme had been waiting for, Firestar broke away from the other femmes and ran to them. Red Alert wrapped his arms around her reflexively when she flung herself against his chest plates.

“Primus, Red. I’ve missed you so much.” And then she was kissing him with almost desperate passion, and nothing in the universe seemed to matter anymore.

Just as the security director was beginning to think he was going to have to break away from her to prevent something entirely inappropriate, Firestar pulled away from him with a smile and turned to Inferno. Red watched them as she repeated her performance with the search and rescue agent. As his mates broke apart and Firestar settled contentedly against Inferno’s chest plates, Red Alert became aware of the sudden silence that had fallen over the rest of the group of Autobots.

Slowly, the security director turned to look at his crew mates. They were all staring, many with slack-jawed amazement. Red backed up a step, nervous at the sudden attention. Inferno and Firestar both put comforting hands on his shoulders.

“Can we help you?” the femme asked, any sweetness her tone might have held offset by an underlying threat.

A moment later, Smokescreen collapsed. Chromia began laughing, though Red couldn’t understand what was funny, and Sunstreaker began swearing expansively. Optimus Prime’s optics were narrowed with a hidden smile and Prowl looked as smug. His glitch threatened to spring into a full paranoid fit as he watched them--and the rest of the crew.

After almost a full minute, Chromia laughing the entire time, Sideswipe finally spoke. “Damn, Red. _Both_ of them?”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It was almost comical, the way everyone flocked around them in the rec room. The twins had shoved the three of them toward the couch, forcing them to sit down and then stared at them like human children expecting a bedtime story. The other mechs had been quick to follow suit, pulling up chairs or sitting on the floor, staring at them expectantly. 

Red Alert was tense, unsurprisingly, under the scrutiny. He was certain there was some kind of plot here, though he wasn’t sure how he’d missed it. Inferno looked indulgently amused and Firestar was glaring at them all. As protective of him as his mates usually were, Red was surprised that they were letting this go on.

“So,” Sideswipe said after everyone was settled and Smokescreen rebooted, “Spill.”

“Spill?” Firestar asked. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“It’s Human slang,” Inferno supplied. “Means they want us to tell some secret.”

“But we don’t have any secrets,” the femme protested.

The red twin gestured expansively at them. “This is not a secret?”

Red Alert buried his face in his hands as the pieces finally clicked together. The crew had all been acting strangely since they found out about his relationship with Inferno, and that had escalated when they found out the femmes were coming to Earth. And Inferno’s past with Firestar was certainly no secret, though Red had always been quiet about his own attachments. It had simply never occurred to their factionmates that the three of them were having a relationship.

“It’s not a secret,” the security director finally said. “Our relationship isn’t your business.”

“Not our business?” Sideswipe asked, sounding surprised that anyone would think so.

“But you’re depriving us of perfectly good gossip!” Wheeljack exclaimed.

Red Alert cringed when he heard the distinctive clang of Ratchet hitting his mate upside the head. He lifted his head enough to look at Firestar, who had a vaguely amused expression on her face.

“I’ve felt that way more than once,” she said.

Several of the mechs in the crowd, including Ratchet, chuckled at her statement.

“Seriously, though,” Inferno said after they quieted. “Red’s right. It’s not your business, and he’s not comfortable talking about it.”

“But--” 

Sideswipe’s protest was cut off by Ratchet’s warning growl. “So help me, if you make his glitch act up…”

“Fine,” the red twin pouted. “But just tell me one thing.”

“What.” Red Alert wasn’t prepared to humor the gossip hound the way his mates were.

“How long have you been together?”

Firestar draped herself dramatically around the security director’s shoulders at the question. Red allowed it, as it gave him time to formulate the proper answer. “We’ve always been together.”

“Even on Cybertron?” Now Sideswipe sounded vaguely depressed.

“Even on Cybertron,” Inferno confirmed.

Sideswipe whimpered, and Red wondered exactly what he had missed.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

They were sprawled across the berth in a tangle of limbs and tingling circuits. Firestar had been eager to renew their bond the moment the three of them could get away from the rec room, and neither Red Alert or Inferno had been opposed to the idea. It was a relief to be able to feel the femme in their sparks again, to know that she still loved them as much as she ever had despite the rough turn that her life had taken while they were in stasis.

How she had laughed when she had felt Red’s worry that she had moved away from them.

“Silly paranoid glitch,” she whispered.

“It made sense at the time,” the security director replied equally softly.

They both glanced at Inferno, who had cycled into recharge a while before. “I suppose he didn’t even try to convince you otherwise,” Firestar said.

Red Alert ran gentle fingers over her faceplates. “He did, but I wasn’t particularly receptive at the time. You know how I get.”

“Yes, I do.” She drew his fingers to his lip components and kissed them. “I love you.”

Utter, total truth across their spark bond. It seemed silly now that he could have ever doubted her. He leaned across their larger mate to kiss her. “I love you, too.”

They settled down together, Red Alert stretched out across Inferno’s torso and nuzzled face to face with Firestar. She hummed in contentment and powered down into her own recharge cycle. Red would have followed a moment later, but there was a hesitant knock on their door.

With a sigh, he carefully untangled himself from his mates and went to answer it. He was always on call, whether he wanted to be or not.

The security director fully expected to see Prowl or Prime on the other side of the door, so he was confused when Jazz was standing there. The saboteur was grinning widely, and looking far too cheerful.

“Can I help you, Jazz?” Red asked.

“Nope. Just dropping something off.” The black and white mech reached into his subspace and pulled out a crate. “Your share of the betting pool.”

“But, Jazz, I haven’t participated in any betting pool.” The red mech was confused as he took the crate and looked inside. He rebooted his optics when he saw the quantity--and variety--of high grade inside.

“I know that. But you still deserve that, just for the loop you threw Sides. He thought for sure that Firestar was going to deactivate you for stealing her mech.”

Red Alert’s optics narrowed in anger. “You were betting on our relationship status?”

“Take it easy, my mech.” Jazz held his hands up in surrender. “Prowl and I only did it to show the others up. Everyone but Prime’s got extra duty shifts now.”

“It’s still completely inappropriate!” The security director could feel his anger starting to trigger his glitch; he wanted to think that everyone had simply used them all.

“I know, Red.” Jazz’s tone turned from jovial to serious. “And I’m sorry that it was you that this happened to, but they aren’t likely to do it again now.”

“Jazz…”

“Look, Red, just enjoy your winnings and your mates and forget the rest.” The saboteur patted his shoulder comfortingly. “You’ve got something there that most mechs can’t even dream of having, and you deserve it. The rest of the crew doesn’t matter in the long run.”

Red Alert’s grip on the crate tightened for a moment before he allowed himself to relax. “I had better not find out about his happening again.”

“No worries, Red.” Jazz’s jovial tone was back again. “The whole betting pool was dissolved this morning.”

“Good. If there’s nothing else?”

“Not a thing.” The saboteur grinned. “Have a nice day, Red.”

The security director glanced back into his quarters and toward his mates. “I will, Jazz.”


End file.
